55 Trainer 3 (1/2)

Andrew Vishnevsky looked younger than what I thought an athletic trainer would look like. He might have been right out of college or grad school or wherever trainers studied. He had dark hair, dark eyes behind glasses, and looked like he could just be a passerby off the street.

He held out a hand, ”You can call me Drew.”

I looked at his hand. Then at Noah.

Noah laughed. ”Just shake his hand. You really don't have to be so hesitant. Just give him a nice, firm handshake and say hello.” He gave me a shoulder pat. ”I've got to go to the regular practice before they make me run some more.” Then he ditched me. I ran ten laps with him!

Mr. Miller laughed at my heart-stricken expression. ”You can't use Noah as a shield all the time. Vishnevsky will take care of you until he deems you fit.” He turned to leave as well.

I sighed with dejection, then faced Drew. He still had his hand out, waiting patiently. I stretched out my arm and gave his hand a quick shake.

”Mary Atkins, your guardian has given me your medical records.” He looked at me, expressionless. ”Do you have any aches or pains on a normal basis?”

I shook my head no.

”When you were running, did anything hurt?”

I started to shake my head no again, but then nodded. I pointed at my side, where my rib cage was.

He pulled out a sheet of paper and looked it over. Then back at me. ”You have fractured your rib cage on that side, correct?”

I nodded.

”It's been so long since the original injury. I'm guessing there might be muscle damage or worst case, nerve damage.” I flinched. ”I'll assign some exercises pertaining to the chest area so hopefully it'll help. Let's move to the grass area so I can see you try some exercises and drills.” He pointed to some open space. ”I'll meet you over there. Grab your bat, glove and a baseball. I'm going to grab some tools.”

I ran around, gathering my gear. Drew was already setting up a speed ladder and mini hurdles six inches high, when I returned.